Nadir: The Power of the Darkside

"Yes, you called me, Master?" asked Mark Damien, on a bended knee.

"It is time," said the Master.

Mark lifted his head. In his mid-20s, he looked older than his age. With his darked skin and squared face, he stared straight at the Master, who was standing by the window, back facing, looking for assurance.

The Master turned backwards. In his hooded cloak like the Evil Emperor, slowly he walked towards Mark. Nobody had seen his face, nobody knew how he looked like, nobody even knew his name. "You heard me," he said, as he stood right in front of Mark.

Mark nodded. He dared not disobey the order of the Master. As a faithful henchman, every single order would be executed without a question. Even it would cost his life. The Master was the one who raised him to what he was now, and he was the only family he had. No, there was another, but to Mark, she was just like a puppet, only to be used when needed. He never treated her well, never.

"Arise," ordered the Master.

Mark stood, waiting for the next order. "Don't fail me," said the Master, "I've been waiting 20 years for this moment." His voice deepened, full of hatred.

"I won't fail you," answered Mark, confident.

The Master smiled. He knew Mark would never failed him, but he was afraid that she would. Her loyalty was not tested yet, even she had shown great determination in each and every task assigned. But he had no choice, she had to carry this task, it was the only way to fulfill his revenge.

Mark bowed, as a respectful sign of leaving, and started walking out of the room. But halfway through, he stopped, and again, facing the Master. "What's next, my Master?" he asked.

Silence occupied the room for couples of seconds. The Master sighed, and then, turned his back against Mark, facing the window. He watched the full moon outside, thinking. He took one final breath. "Kill her," he finally said, after a long hiatus.

Mark bowed again, and left.

~to be continued~